


Draco Malfoy and the things he does to Harry Potter

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Not Harry's Baby, Pregnant Draco, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has to protect a pregnant Malfoy who witnessed a murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco Malfoy and the things he does to Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Mention of one night stand. Not Harry’s baby. Made up secret service Ministry things. Angst. Lots of Angst. Harry slightly turned on by a pregnant Draco. Happy ending. Hopeful ending. Fluffy ending. Little to no use of magic. There’s a slight timeline shift with a flashback.

* * *

**_9th January, 2004_ **

* * *

Park always had a habit of harassing Harry on the mornings he was hung over. It was as if she knew he was going to be miserable that day and made it her personal mission to make him squirm even more.

He loved her. He really did. But he also couldn't stand her at times.

"I've got a new job for you," she said, throwing the file at his chest. He had no idea how she'd manage to let herself into his flat. _Again_.

"I didn't realise you were working for the Ministry again," Harry said, groaning. "In the open I mean. I am just more used to meeting up with a mysterious blond at a coffee shop who drops off papers for me, pretending to have spilled her latte on my finely pressed shirts."

"You don’t have any finely pressed shirts." She paused briefly. "I try to keep my distance, you know that," she said, and opened the curtains, letting the blinding light in.

"For the love of Merlin, Park! _Why_ are you here to deliver this file?" Harry asked; he'd just had about enough of her presence in his flat. "Why are you breaking protocol?"

"If you open the file, Potter, you'll know."

"What is it?" Harry said, and started searching for his glasses. He'd just opened up the folder to the first page and thought he was being pranked by the Undercover Investigation Department of the Ministry, because he couldn't believe what he was reading.

"It's Malfoy," Park said calmly. "Your next job for the Ministry Wizard Protection Programme, is to protect Draco Malfoy."

* * *

**_17th March 2004_ **

* * *

Harry had no idea how it came to this. Actually, he had a pretty clear idea, but he also had no clue to how he'd managed to kiss Draco Malfoy in all of this.

No, he knew quite well on that, too. Really, it was Malfoy's fault. Malfoy with his fitted shirts and his toned arms and that arse— 

Malfoy, who was pregnant and was just starting to show in the slightest of ways. He still wore his fitted shirts and showed off his toned arms in the way he carried himself, knowing that Harry was watching him. Malfoy, who smelled like the sun when he came into the sitting room after gardening for hours. Malfoy who was so good at charms and looked like he never even broke a sweat.

Malfoy.

Pregnant Malfoy.

Having a dead man's baby, Malfoy.

Harry's professional obligation, Malfoy.

Harry's very big problem. Malfoy.

*

"What's the matter with you today?" Malfoy asked when he entered the house and caught Harry staring at him.

"I don't have a problem," Harry spat back.

They never talked about the kiss, and Harry liked to pretend it’d never happened. Well, if Malfoy pretended too, then they could both live out their lives pretending it didn't happen. Just like they pretended that they didn’t _hate_ each other in school or that they hadn’t nearly been the cause of each other’s deaths and owed each other a life debt — uncomfortable things that were too many to count. Harry would just rather it all didn’t exist.

Harry glowered at Malfoy and turned to make them some tea. He could feel Malfoy's gaze on him. The house wasn't big enough for the two of them. The _planet_ wasn't big enough for the two of them. 

The one floor, two bedroom, Ministry appointed house was a prison, really. He missed his flat. He missed the view. Now he just had one view. Malfoy.

Harry had guarded many witnesses in this safe house before, but for some reason, with Malfoy, it felt like the walls were closing in. Harry had trouble breathing, and Malfoy was just _everywhere_. Smelling like lavender and sunshine. Harry used to love the feeling of sunshine as it wasn't found much in London, so it had been special. Then Malfoy had walked back into his life and what Harry used to love was stolen from him, because it belonged to Malfoy. And if Harry loved sunshine still, then he'd be forced to— No, he wasn't going to think about that. 

Harry wanted to buy him a different body wash, but Malfoy annoyingly insisted that _that_ one was the only aromatherapy product which didn't upset the baby. 

The baby. 

Malfoy's baby. 

Another man's baby. 

Harry's professional responsibility, baby. 

Harry needed the chant at least ten times a day, because, he needed the reminder that no matter how well they got along —because they really didn't— finding Malfoy attractive was _not_ an option.

Getting along with his charges was a good thing. You needed that trust in the professional relationship, but, crossing the line was not a good idea.

"What did I do now?" Malfoy asked as he turned to Harry who had been standing over the stove.

"What?" Harry snapped.

"You've got that look again."

"What look?"

" _Malfoy's making my life miserable_. Look."

"That's not a look..." Harry flustered. "That's an everyday thing."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and looked at the stove. "If you're making tea, it might help if you turned the stove on."

"Oh," said Harry. The flat they were staying at was half Muggle, half magic. They had a gas stove, wireless, no Floo connection, but a Muggle telephone, and a two-way magic mirror for Harry to communicate with his supervisors. Harry knew Malfoy liked the Muggle shower more, and Harry couldn't blame him; the water pressure was amazing. Harry tried not to think about the shower, though. Because when Malfoy had slipped in the shower, Harry had to barge in getting an eyeful of Malfoy's slightly scarred but otherwise perfectly soft skin.

Harry tried not to think about the scars, either.

"Let me," Malfoy said, pushing Harry out of the way. "You could burn water with where your head is today." Malfoy's arm brushed against Harry and he didn't seem to notice. Harry continued to stand next to Malfoy, taking in the sun-soaked smell. He could easily get high on it.

"Shit," Harry muttered and finally turned away. He was starting to get hard and that was most certainly not on.

Malfoy again didn't seem to notice as he poured the hot water in the two cups with the tea bags. 

"Next time you go to the shop, I want to try the sage herbal tea. I read about it in the Muggle pregnancy books. It states that it's good for sleeping through the whole night."

"Isn't the book targeted towards pregnant women?" Harry asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. "Well, the Ministry doesn't want to buy me wizarding books, so I have to rely on _something_!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Harry said. He remembered going to the magazine stand next to the market and looking at the pregnancy books and the shopkeeper had asked he if he was having a boy or a girl. He had to back away and as soon as he could change the subject; he didn't want to think about how it _wasn't_ his baby. Even if he sometimes wished it was. 

"What?" Harry asked when Malfoy was gaping at him.

"I just never thought I'd ever hear you say those words to me," Malfoy answered. "Also, you agreeing with me about something against the Ministry."

Harry chuckled. "It's bound to happen once in a while..." He paused to take a sip of his tea. "Next time I'm at the Burrow, I'll have Hermione give me all of her wizarding pregnancy books. I think there are chapters on male pregnancies."

"When will that be?"

"Shouldn't be long. I'd say we're scheduled to switch safe houses in a couple of days."

"Switch again?" Malfoy whined. "I thought we were safe here."

"Can't be safe anywhere for too long," Harry replied.

Malfoy groaned. "Maybe it's you who cannot stick around in one place for too long. You've got major issues with commitment."

"Don't psychoanalyse me again, Malfoy." Harry slammed his tea mug on the counter and went outside on the porch. It was his hiding place, and he was comfortable doing that. Hiding. From Malfoy. Because it was the only time he could think straight.

* * *

**_15th February 2004_ **

* * *

Malfoy had taken the fact that Harry was his warden in stride.

He’d witnessed his boyfriend's murder and was the only person who could identify the killers. The killers had no idea Malfoy was in the kitchen when they'd broken into the house. 

Malfoy's boyfriend, Sebastian Court, was the Head of the International Magical Cooperation and was working with other countries to bring down the illegal smuggling of VOID—a drug that influenced individuals to obey commands without remembering them. 

The illegal substance had started to circulate around in the political scene where politicians and other higher up Ministry officials were being slowly poisoned by VOID. These individuals made policies and signed laws to benefit underground drug lords without remembering who or what made them do it. 

According to Malfoy, when he presented his statement to the Ministry's Department of Law Enforcement, he'd gone to Court's house to tell him he was pregnant and in the midst of doing so, they'd been distracted when someone had rang the doorbell at Court's house. Court had gone to answer the door, and he'd immediately been attacked. Malfoy had quickly placed a Disillusionment Charm on himself and managed to get a good look on Court's attacker. He was unable to save him, however, because the men had soon killed him off. Malfoy hid himself in the kitchen pantry until the Aurors arrived.

In the beginning, the Aurors hadn’t believed him. He was an ex-Death Eater after all. But when Malfoy had willingly offered to give his testimony under the Veritaserum, he’d been cleared of all charges.

From the next day after that, he was under Harry's protection.

Malfoy barely talked to Harry. Malfoy barely talked. He mostly glowered at Harry and stayed in his room when he wasn't walking about the flat, scowling.

For the month Malfoy had been there, Harry hadn't had a drink. He usually didn't drink on the job. His jobs usually only lasted for ten days at most. This job had no ending at sight. The killers were still at large. Even though Malfoy _had_ given their descriptions and the Aurors had identified who some of the culprits were—a coalition of Neo Death Eaters who called themselves The Abyss—they were still very well concealed in the wizarding world. Park had attempted to infiltrate them, but she still hadn't managed to get to the leader. 

All they could do was wait. All Harry could do was wait. Sober. He was dying for a drink.

Sometimes, Harry could hear Malfoy crying. They were gentle, quiet sobs, and he probably had no idea Harry could hear him. Because if he did, Harry was sure Malfoy would have commented on his lack of privacy and the inability to use any magic. 

So Harry always pretended everything was normal. He just figured it was either pregnancy hormones or that Malfoy grieved his boyfriend. They were going to have a child together, and Court's murder had probably shifted his life upside down. Harry could imagine Malfoy and Court sitting in the kitchen at Court's house discussing their future together. How happy Court would have been to find out they were starting a family. Harry had seen Court in passing, he was a good looking man; he and Malfoy would make a very attractive couple.

"God, I could use a drink," Malfoy said coming out of his room and surprising Harry. He'd barely ever made conversation with Harry which didn't consist of "we're out of milk," or "beans and toast _again_?"

"I—uh—I don't think you can drink," Harry said.

"I know _that_. I'm not stupid, Potter."

"I know you're not _stupid_ ," Harry growled wishing Malfoy would just return to his room.

"I have a bottle of whiskey," Malfoy said.

"Malfoy..."

"I know _I_ can't drink. But you can."

Harry's brows furrowed and he looked at Malfoy confused. "I don't understand," he said; did Malfoy want to watch Harry get drunk? And why, all of a sudden, was Malfoy talking to Harry?

"It's my own recipe," Malfoy said, ignoring Harry.

"I didn't know you distilled your own whiskey," Harry said, playing along.

"Yeah. It's a hobby." Malfoy made a disgusted face. " _Was_ a hobby. It's really how I got into this mess."

"What mess?"

"Do you want to taste it?" Malfoy asked, ignoring Harry again.

"Uh—sure."

Malfoy got up and walked to his bedroom; he was back a minute later. "Tell me what you think of it," he said and placed the bottle in front of Harry, then went to grab two small glasses and also returned with a bottle of milk. "I'll drink with you."

Harry sighed with relief. For a minute, he thought Malfoy was serious about drinking the alcohol and was glad to see Malfoy hadn't entirely gone mental. 

Every time Harry took a sip of the drink, Malfoy took a sip of his milk. He looked at Harry and asked him to tell him what he thought of the flavour, the colour, the smell, and everything else Harry could think of. Every time Harry took a sip. Every time.

The more Harry drank, the looser his tongue was becoming. He had to _strain_ himself from blurting something inappropriate to Malfoy. He was afraid Malfoy would have started crying in front of him.

"You really miss drinking," Harry said.

Malfoy shrugged. "I just miss it a little bit. I wasn't much of a drinker, not really, but I miss brewing, the process, it was soothing."

"Why are you talking to me?" _Wait, did I say that out loud_? Malfoy's snort confirmed Harry had, in fact, said that out loud. "I mean..."

"I reckon we're stuck together," Malfoy said, finishing the last of his milk. "At first, I'd just hoped it was a really bad dream or something, but I already have those. I acknowledge you're trying to keep me safe, and even though I was unfortunate enough to witness Sebastian's murder, I'm glad to be alive."

"You must miss him," Harry said, sounding thoughtful he hoped. 

Malfoy snorted again. Harry looked at him confused. "Can I tell you a secret?" Malfoy asked and Harry nodded. He really should have not drank as much as he did because as Malfoy bit his lower lip, looking nervous about whatever the secret was, Harry couldn't take his eyes off Malfoy's mouth. 

Harry tried not to stare but he knew he couldn't help himself. He also knew Malfoy didn't even notice it. 

"I know I let the Aurors and the Ministry officials believe that Sebastian was my boyfriend, but..." Malfoy released an exasperated sigh. "I _hated_ that git."

"What?" Harry snapped. 

"It was a bloody one night stand and the arsehole had promised me a promotion if I’d let him fuck me." Malfoy shook his head, and Harry realised he was avoiding eye contact with Harry. 

"Is it even his child?" Honestly, Harry was better at holding his liquor than this.

Malfoy shot him a glare. "Yes, it's his bloody child," Malfoy snapped.

"I thought Court was a good man." Harry struggled to change the subject slightly; take the pressure off Malfoy, and himself.

Malfoy poured himself another small shot of milk. "Sebastian Court was very good at his job. He cared about the Ministry; he had good ethics, and he truly was working very diligently with the other countries' ministries to trap the members of The Abyss. The man was also a horny _bastard_."

Harry gave a short laugh at the unexpected information. 

Malfoy continued. "He'd shagged half the staff at the office. He'd never been faithful in his relationships and wasn't afraid to ask for sexual favours in return for whatever you wanted."

Malfoy paused to look at Harry as if he was expecting Harry to say something. Harry had no idea how to react.

"He'd showed up at my house one night and said he'd heard all about my mini-distillery. He invited himself in and then after a few drinks, offered me a job as his Junior Assistant. I'd been stuck at my old position for over three years and had very little room to grow. I wanted it. He wanted to fuck me. So I let him."

"And you didn't expect to get pregnant," Harry said, dryly. He wasn't sure how he felt about this information. His opinion didn't matter, anyway. His job was to watch over Malfoy, whatever his life choices were, weren't Harry's problem. 

"No," Malfoy said, defeated. "That's why I was there that evening. To ask him if he wanted to keep it or...but we didn't get far then. And here I am now."

"Is that why you cry sometimes?" Harry blurted out and cursed himself immediately. He should have stayed sober. Malfoy glared at him again. "I can hear you." Harry's voice was soft. "I don't mean to pry. Sorry."

"No. That's not why I _cry_ ," Malfoy said, almost his rolling his eyes. "That's just something the Dark Lord left me with, and I can't help with the nightmares."

"Oh," Harry said; he knew all about nightmares. "Do you want...the baby?" he tried changing the topic.

Malfoy shrugged. "My life has been turned upside down. I can't imagine bringing a child into this world right now, but I don't want to part from it, either." Malfoy gently rubbed his stomach, and Harry couldn't take his eyes off him. Malfoy's hand, his long fingers and the tender way he'd just touched himself, was turning Harry on. He wondered if it was the whiskey and if there was some philtre in it that had also made Court desire Malfoy.

Harry cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. He grabbed the empty glasses and made his way to the sink. Malfoy had grabbed the bottle of milk and returned it to the ice box. 

"What's the matter?" Malfoy asked.

"Nothing," Harry said, washing the glasses in the sink. When he turned around, Malfoy was there, crowding in his space. 

"What is your problem?" Malfoy asked, sounding almost defensive. "I'm not good enough for you to protect now?"

"What?" Harry huffed.

"Don't think I don't know that you're judging me."

" _Judging_ you?"

"You think I'm just some slut who fucked his boss for a job and now you're stuck with me."

"Malfo—"

"Save it, Potter. I shouldn't have even tried to talk—"

Malfoy didn't finish whatever retort he was thinking of, because Harry pulled Malfoy toward him and almost _attacked_ his mouth. He pushed his tongue into Malfoy's mouth, hot and demanding. He wanted to taste Malfoy. Malfoy stood still for a moment before he'd kissed Harry back and started to suck on Harry's tongue. 

Harry's hands grabbed Malfoy's shoulders first, then they travelled down to his waist, then his arse and Malfoy pressed his body against Harry's. 

When they broke apart, Malfoy was panting. His hands were inside Harry's jeans and he was mumbling. "Fuck, Potter. You taste _so good_." Harry realised Malfoy had tasted his own whiskey on Harry's tongue. 

" _Fuck_ ," Harry muttered, but his reaction wasn't aroused as Malfoy's. It was regretful. Malfoy immediately pulled back. "I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. I—I—uh—I'm sorry!"

Harry rushed out of the kitchen to his bedroom and locked the door behind him. He was devastatingly embarrassed and his erection was aching in his pants. It probably hated him more than Malfoy did at that moment.

* * *

**_31st March, 2004_ **

* * *

The next safe house Harry and Malfoy ended up at was smaller than the last, and Harry regretted even suggesting they should've moved at all.

This one was deeper in the Muggle village of Catarina, and the magic use was even more restricted. In the last place, Malfoy had managed to use an extension charm and now he couldn't. Of course, Harry heard all about the complaints.

Harry couldn't hex Malfoy to stop talking. He couldn't place a Silencing Charm, and the only way he thought he could make it happen was if he kissed Malfoy. That's surely get the git to stop talking. Harry immediately tossed the idea out of his head.

"At least, the garden is bigger," Malfoy said. "And the sun seems brighter. Also this one has a Floo."

"Yeah..." was all Harry said. He stepped out of the cottage and sat on one of the garden chairs. He decided to take the sun in and not worry about Malfoy smelling even more like sunshine. 

"Will I at least be allowed to go to the market here?" Malfoy asked, following Harry out into the porch.

"Doubt it," Harry said without turning around to look at Malfoy. He was wearing one of his Muggle t-shirts that'd become just a bit too tight, and Harry particularly liked the way Malfoy's arms looked in it; so he just decided to not look. "Can't use magic to alter your appearance. Polyjuice is restricted during pregnancy."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"That Polyjuice is restricted during pregnancy."

"Oh." _Shite_. "I read that in one of Hermione's books."

"You read up on male pregnancy?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Erm. Yeah. I like to be prepared for my assignments."

"Right. Of course," Malfoy said coldly.

Harry thought about how Hermione had acted when he’d asked her for the books. She’d raised an eyebrow and gave him a look as if she knew he was hiding something. The fact that he was protecting Malfoy wasn’t a secret from Ron or Hermione, but everything else that had happened was. 

"What is it now, Malfoy?" Harry asked, irritated. He was probably psychoanalysing him again just like Hermione liked to do.

"Nothing."

Harry swallowed but didn't say anything, then he returned to soaking in the sun. He felt Malfoy's presence next to him until he fell asleep.

*

When Harry woke up, he checked his wristwatch and realised he'd been out for a few hours. He immediately felt something was wrong. He called out for Malfoy.

No answer.

"Malfoy?" Harry said casually when he entered the house.

Still nothing.

"Hey. Draco."

Nothing.

 _Shite. Shite. Shite_.

He ran back to the porch and murmured a spell to reveal if there was any magic. There were faint traces and whoever it was, knew what they were doing. Harry sensed the Silencing Charm placed in the room, which meant if Malfoy had struggled, Harry wouldn't have heard him from outside the porch. Moreover, the hint of a Slumbering Spell lingered outside—the reason why Harry'd fallen asleep so easily.

 _Bloody hell. They knew we were going to be here, and they were ready for it_. 

Harry’s heart ached for Malfoy. _Draco_.

But how? Harry didn't understand. Who could have disclosed their location?

He immediately fire-called his only contact that wasn't part of the Ministry—not really—the only contact he knew he could trust. Park.

"They took him!" Harry nearly screamed into the fire when Park's head came floating about.

"Took who?"

"Draco! They took _Draco_!" _Merlin, Harry, get a hold of yourself_.

"That...wasn't part of the plan," Park replied, calm. 

"How can you be like this? I thought you cared for his safety!" Harry shouted then paused. "What plan?"

"They weren't supposed to— No one was supposed to know where you are. I wasn't notified."

"Are they going to kill him?" Harry’s voice was still shaky, but he’d managed to school his face.

"No. I don't think so. If they wanted to kill him, they would have just done it at the house and left you to deal with it. They must want to know how much he knows; how much he's told you."

"He hasn't told me—"

"I know that, Harry." Park's voice was smooth and calm as ever and Harry had to remain impassive. He'd already given too much away. If Park knew how Harry really felt—

"I'm going to send you something, and I'll need you to drink all of it. It's going to knock you out."

"I don't understand. Why do you need me to—"

"It's part of the plan, Harry. I have to find out where they're holding him and then I have to take you there with me. I'll need to bring something worthwhile to be allowed in on the secret plan. If you're going to be unconscious and as my prisoner, it might be easier."

"It might be easier if I'm there to knock down the door with you!" Harry snapped.

"No. Your Gryffindor _jump before you think analogy_ isn't going to work here. Think about it, they have someone on the inside. That means if you're there with me, then they'll know I'm not exactly—"

"Okay. That's fine," Harry said. "I don't want to talk about it if I can't change your mind. We're wasting precious time. Draco could be hurt."

"Alright," Park said. "Change into old, unlaundered clothes, so it'll look like you're more of a mess and drink the potion I'm going to send. You have to do exactly as I say."

"Okay!" Harry panted. "Just get it done fast."

"I'll see you soon," Park replied and severed the Floo connection. 

Harry did as he was told. He looked into the mirror and spelled a few bruises on his face, he put on an old pair of jeans and a tore up one of the shirts before he put it on. Park's owl arrived a few minutes later, and he drank the contents of the phial.

*

Harry woke up and realised he was tied to a chair.

There was another man sitting in the chair in front of him and a black bag covered his face. From the clothes and the fact that the man was pregnant, Harry knew it was Draco. He tried to look confused and unaware of his surroundings—which wasn't very hard to do.

"He's coming to..." Harry heard someone behind him say. It sounded familiar. He wondered if that was the traitor.

Draco stirred in front of him.

Harry moved his leg slightly and was happy to feel his wand was still stuck against his leg under his sock. He squinted his eyes and tried to recognise the person that had walked around him and stood behind Draco.

He heard a man and a woman come close up behind him, and he recognised Park right away. He breathed a sigh of relief and watched the man remove the cloth bag covering Draco's head. He'd have to be ready.

Draco took in the room and his eyes widened when he spotted Harry. It was worse when the look of recognition dawned in his eyes and Harry knew; he was ready for it.

"Pansy?" he nearly shrieked. 

"Shit," Park said from behind Harry and he felt his restraints unbind. Harry only had a second before he grabbed his wand and _Stupefied_ the man that stood behind Draco. He heard Park punch the other man and put a binding spell on the other two that were in the far corner of the room. 

"Is that all?" Harry asked.

"No, there's others outside the door. Here, it's your cloak!" Park threw the Invisibility Cloak at Harry, and he didn't have time to register how she'd got her hands on it.

"Draco, take the cloak and get yourself in the corner of the room. No matter what happens, don't reveal your location!" Harry cut the ropes from around Draco's wrist and urged him to get going. Right before Draco was going to place the cloak over him, Harry placed a protective spell on him, too.

There weren't very many of them, but they were skilled duellers. On top of that, after Harry and Park had managed to disarm them of their wands, they were skilled at hand to hand combat. 

The Abyss didn't joke around.

Lucky for Harry, neither did Park.

Park managed to take three men at the same time, dodging a punch from one, and managing to kick the other so he’d land on the third. Harry did the same, except Park had come to _his_ rescue, too. 

"I see you keep in shape," Harry said when he managed to knock the last man on the floor and placed a binding spell on him. He was out of breath.

"I see that you don’t," Park replied, smirking. 

Harry shook his head at her and sent a Patronus to the Aurors, Park sent hers to the Ministry for back up. Pansy Parkinson could cast a Patronus Charm. Imagine that.

"They’ll be here soon," Harry said to her in a whisper, wondering if Park was going to take that as her cue to leave; preferably with Draco.

"He’s made me," Park said. 

Harry resisted rolling his eyes. "You speak as if there was a doubt."

"There’s no point in running now. My cover’s blown."

"Maybe that’ll just mean perhaps it’s time to come out of hiding," Harry said, and he wasn’t sure but he thought he saw Park shudder at the thought. "I’ll hold court here. Get Draco out of here."

"Where should I take him?" she asked.

"The only place I know he’ll be safe," Harry said, and he knew he didn’t need to tell Park where that was.

*

Apprehending, identifying, and the initial interrogation of the suspects that Harry and Park had detained took well over four hours. Harry knew they had a lot of work cut out for them. For Harry, the Aurors, and the whole of the Department of International Cooperation. They still had the find the traitor that supplied Ministry information to The Abyss about Harry and Draco’s whereabouts.

He reckoned he had to go back home first before Park would meet with the Aurors and give her statement. Her name—real name—buzzed through the crowd of officials that was gathered at the crime scene. She was right. Her cover _had_ been totally blown. Both her and Harry hadn’t given their own safety a second thought when it came to saving Draco.

Harry was getting an earful about it as well. Who did he think he was? He couldn't just take matters in his own hands. He wasn’t an Auror anymore. Park was being blamed for being reckless, too.

Harry knew where Park was coming from. Park was Draco’s childhood friend but Harry? Harry just couldn’t bear the thought of not being around Draco. It was so bizarre, really, given how he hadn’t even give two sickles about Draco before he’d come into his custody. And now Harry couldn’t even imagine _anything_ happening to him without Harry’s permission.

When Harry Apparated to his flat, he expected Park and Draco together, except when he’d arrived, Draco was curled up on Harry’s sofa and was sleeping soundly. Harry walked around looking for Park, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Harry stood across the room and watched Draco for a while. He heard Draco’s even breaths and even though he was on his side, he could see Draco’s chest rise and fall. He grabbed a blanket from his bedroom and made his way to Draco to drape it on him. 

Draco woke up right away. "You’re here," he said as if he still might be sleeping. 

"Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. Get some rest," Harry whispered and placed the blanket over Draco. 

Draco clutched to the covers but sat up straight. "How long have I been here?" he asked.

"About four-five hours," Harry said.

"Where’s Pansy?" He looked around the room before his eyes settled on Harry’s face.

Harry looked away. Draco’s gaze was too scrutinising. As if he was upset with Harry for not telling him about Park. His expression was practically speaking: _How could you keep this information away from me?_

"I think she went to the Ministry to give her statement." _And get yelled at for breaking protocol. Again_.

"She had me record everything I had seen or heard and then told me to just sleep. She wouldn’t even answer _any_ of my questions. I thought...I thought she was dead."

"I know. She wanted to keep it that way. She likes being...not Pansy Parkinson."

"She looked so different. I can’t believe she’s blond now. We could pass for being siblings." Draco shivered slightly, and Harry wondered if he was cold. "Talk about literally kissing your sister," he said and chuckled. 

A pang of jealousy surged through Harry. He knew Draco and Park were a thing at Hogwarts but just knowing that they’d kissed—Harry didn’t like that.

When Harry looked back at Draco, his eyes were wide with a kind of innocence that almost took Harry’s breath away. "She said you’d explain things to me."

Harry nodded and relaxed back into the sofa. He watched as Draco did the same and part of him wanted Draco to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry place an arm around Draco, and assure him that he was going to keep him safe forever.

Harry took a deep breath and started the story. "As a form of redeeming herself for wanting to give me up to Voldemort, Park, I mean _Pansy_ , worked at the Ministry for the summer after the war. I’d requested for everyone who didn’t personally kill wizards or Muggles be put on community service, rather than sent to Azkaban. Do you remember what she did?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, she was a filing clerk," he said. "She worked ten hours a day just pushing paper around in the dungeons of the Ministry. Without magic. It was awful." Draco smiled slightly, before he frowned. "Then they said a series of cabinets had tipped over and she was crushed beneath them." 

Harry nodded and before he could say anything else, Draco huffed with disbelief. "I can’t believe I fell for that. I should have known it sounded too dodgy."

Harry laughed. "Yeah. I didn’t know she was alive up until a few years ago when I became an independent contractor for the Ministry."

"So what is she? An undercover Auror?"

Harry shook his head. "Not exactly. I met her on the field and I’d recognised her right away, even through the disguise. She’s a blond now. She was a redhead last week," Harry said. "I was on a job where I had altered my appearance and infiltrated a gang that had kidnapped the Head Auror’s five year old daughter. She was there, too. She was pretending to be a member of the gang, and she took one look at me and knew who I was. It was as if she’d been expecting me. We didn’t talk much then, and when the job was over, I asked her out for coffee. She turned me down, of course. Until I kept meeting her at random places and she was just _always_ there to get me out."

"So what is she?" Draco asked sitting up straight.

"She’s supposedly my Ministry appointed Guardian Angel," Harry said, laughing. "Basically, when she was working down in the dungeons, she’d overheard a few people talking. They were extremists that had infiltrated the Ministry and were planning to harm some of the officials. When she’d figured out who they were, she went to her supervisor. Things escalated from there, she somehow had managed to get herself in with these people and started to report their progress to the higher ups. They must have recognised her skill in being so vigilant—they recruited her as a shadow-operative."

"A shadow-operative?" Draco raised an eyebrow. He’d huddled closer to Harry and now their knees were bumping.

"Basically a spy. She was the one who had found out about The Abyss initially, too. Her job is to be the eyes and ears of the Ministry regarding _any_ suspicious, terrorist or gang-related activity all over Europe. She speaks over seven different languages and is well-versed in all Dark Arts spells, along with several forms of hand-to-hand combat. When she’d found out I quit the Aurors and became a private consultant, she asked to work _only_ with me."

"Is that why you called her? When I was...taken."

Harry nodded. "I had no choice. I trust her more than I trust anyone else in the world, and I had to—I had to get you back."

"Hmm," Draco said, and his face was impassive. Harry so desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. "What about your friends, do they know about her?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I can’t tell anyone. She’s broken protocol several times because of—ever since your case had surfaced. She’s met with me in person. She revealed herself to you— I reckon everyone will know now. The members of The Abyss heard you refer to her with her former name."

Draco nodded and stood up off the sofa. He walked to the far left corner window of Harry’s flat and looked out. "Some view," he said looking out into the city and seeing the lights. Harry’s flat was on the top floor of twenty-story building. To Muggles, it looked as though it was just a huge office building and Harry owned the entire lot so he’d hid it from the wizarding world too. The only few people who knew of Harry’s flat were, Ron, Hermione, Park and now, Draco.

Harry watched Draco’s profile for a while. He continued to stare out the window even though Harry knew Draco wasn’t looking at the view anymore. Harry desperately wanted to walk up to him, wrap his arms around Draco, and tell him everything was going to be alright. He wanted to tell Draco he wanted to keep him, protect him; protect _them_.

He finally got up and walked up to Draco. He stood a short distance behind him, feeling their body heat intermingle. Finally, Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Draco didn’t move; didn’t flinch. Harry took one step closer and rested his forehead on the back of Draco’s neck. He could smell the exhausting day mixed in with that lavender smell that was _so_ Draco. 

Harry felt Draco take a deep sigh. "I can’t believe you both came for me like that. I can’t believe you practically _surrendered_ yourself for me."

"I had to," Harry breathed the words more than he spoke them. "I had to get you back," he said again.

"But why? There were other ways of catching them."

"It was the only way that would ensure that you’d be alive," Harry said.

"But—"

"Draco!" Harry protested. "Just let me make sure for myself that you’re safe, okay? Don’t ask me any questions right now. Don’t try to—"

"To what? _Psychoanalyse_ you?"

"Yeah. That," Harry said.

"You’re too much for me, Potter."

"I know. I’m too much for me, too."

They stood there, silent. Draco allowed Harry to rest his head against him, to put his arms around his waist, and just breathe him in. Harry didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He couldn’t take it anymore. The horror when he’d realised Draco had been taken, the ease with which he’d opened himself up to Park, to tell her he was willing to give himself up for Draco, and now the relief of having him back safe in his arms. This was too much. He hadn’t signed up for this. But somehow, this was exactly what he wanted. Needed even.

"I’m in love with you, Malfoy," Harry said and remained very still. He felt Draco tense up under him, but Harry didn’t react to that, either. He needed to confess, tell him everything, and only pray that after everything, Draco would at least be willing to keep him around. 

"Oh?" Draco said, in his cool Malfoy manner, always driving Harry up the wall.

"I couldn’t protect you to the best of my ability because I was trying to distance myself from you. Because being around you is..."

"It’s what?"

"It’s intoxicating," Harry said. He dared himself to nuzzle into Draco’s hair and when he did, Draco didn’t react then, either. But he _was_ allowing Harry to do all those things. Wasn’t he? Didn’t that mean he liked it?

"Falling in love with a charge is not what I do," he continued. "But now I know if I hadn’t acted like an arse that time we’d kissed, then maybe, this ugliness could have been avoided. I should have just had Park protect you, instead of me. Because I—"

Draco rushed to turn around and kissed Harry before he’d said anything else. Harry kissed him back, his arms snaking around Draco again and Draco’s pregnant belly pressing against Harry’s abdomen. 

"I’m glad that Pansy’s alive. I am," Draco said. "I’m happy that she’s good and noble, that she’s found a purpose in her life, and that she’s _your_ friend. But, I don’t want her to protect me. I want you. I _need_ you to protect us. Be with us."

"You do?" Harry asked, choking up slightly.

"I know it’s not your baby—"

"I want it to be."

"What?" Draco’s eyes widened again, and Harry found himself getting lost in them. How could he not want this man? What would he do if they couldn’t be together? 

"You don’t need my protection anymore. The entire clan of The Abyss is going to start crumbling down and we no longer even need you to testify. Park is going to lead the investigation to find the mole in the Ministry." 

"The mole?"

"Yeah the one who gave up your location to The Abyss members; that’s how they kidnapped you. But, you don’t have to worry; you won’t be in the Wizard Protection Programme anymore. You can go back to your old life, your old job, or do whatever you want from now. I could probably even get you the promotion Court had promised you."

"And you? You’ll go back to being a private consultant?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. I have to see this through, but after that, I don’t have to. I just did it until something better was coming along and now it has." Draco smiled and Harry tightened his hold on him. "I want to be there for you and the baby. It’s not mine, but blood isn’t what makes a family; love is." If he'd learned anything from the Weasleys, it was _that_.

Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry could tell he was pleased to hear that.

Harry kissed him again, exploring the contours of Draco’s mouth with his tongue, unable to get enough of his taste. He couldn’t believe it’d taken him this long to realise he’d been such a fool. He needed Draco, and Draco had wanted him, too.

*

They were sweaty and grimy from the day's struggles. Harry had finally come clean and confessed his feelings to Draco. Now, it was just a matter of _becoming_ clean.

"I only have one bathroom," Harry said as he pulled away from Draco and turned to head towards his bedroom. He was going to look for a fresh towel for Draco in the cupboard. He was going to add that Draco could use it first but he didn't get the chance.

"Is that an invitation?" Draco asked, following him, and sounding amused. 

"I—uh—" Harry flustered. It _wasn't_ a proposition, but if Harry was honest with himself, it wasn't like he hadn't thought about it before. Every time Draco had been alone in the shower, all Harry had thought about was how Draco was _naked_ in the shower, and was envious of the water, the soap, the loofah that he used. Smelling like lavender, like he did. He loved taking showers after Draco, because the scent of him in the stall was intoxicating. He could have got drunk off that scent and no longer needed Firewhisky.

"Relax, Potter," Draco said and grabbed Harry by the wrist. "Lead me there..."

"Drac—"

"I'll make it easy for the both of us. I want you there with me," Draco said, cutting Harry off and making the decision for him. Harry was quietly thankful for it.

*

Harry removed Draco's clothes delicately. He saw a few bruises on Draco's shoulder and grumbled. The arseholes that had kidnapped him had truly been rough, and if they weren't all already beaten up or dead, Harry would go and kick their arses again.

"It's worse than it looks," Draco assured him and smiled as he started to unbutton Harry's shirt. "Get this off," he said eventually, impatient.

Harry gave a small chuckle before he murmured a spell and rid himself of his clothes.

"Nice trick," Draco remarked.

"If you're good, I'll teach it to you some day," Harry said winking and pulled Draco into the shower, closing the stall door behind him, and running the hot water over them.

Draco groaned with satisfaction as if the warm water falling on his skin was what he needed most in that moment. "Fuck. Yes..." he whispered and Harry's cock nearly sprung to attention at the sound of Draco's moan. 

"You're going to make me come before I even get to touch you," Harry said. 

"I'm not stopping you," Draco replied.

Harry summoned the lavender body wash that he'd been secretly hiding. He had purchased it a while ago and stored it in his flat on the one day he had come back home while Draco was secure in their second safe house. He often thought about what it had meant, but dismissed the idea without reading too much into it. Now, he reckoned, it was so he'd have a reminder of Draco once he no longer needed Harry's protection.

But that was before. Now, Draco was _always_ going to need his protection.

He poured a generous amount of body wash into the bath sponge and started to rub it against Draco's skin. Draco moved away from the water and offered his back to Harry so he could continue. Harry scrubbed him everywhere on top before he dropped to his knees and worked on Draco's feet, his legs, then all the way up to his arse. 

Draco was resting his hands against the wall of the shower stall, and he whimpered as Harry's lavender soap-slicked fingers entered him, and begged for Harry to continue.

Harry obliged. He fucked Draco's hole with two fingers, then three, until he had Draco moaning his name over and over, and he felt that Draco was stretched enough. "Are you—do you want me to—"

"Come _on_ , Potter. Fuck me already," Draco demanded, and Harry released a needy sound he hadn't realised he was capable of. 

He stood up and adjusted himself behind Draco. He made sure that Draco's feet were planted securely, and his hands were steadily pressed against the wall, before he lined his cock up against Draco's entrance and pushed in.

The sounds that Draco made almost had Harry coming right then and there. It'd been so long since he'd enjoyed sex; he was worried that he'd never be able to do it with another being again. That was, until Draco had come back into his life. Gods, he loved the feel of Draco against him. The way he dipped his head down and concentrated on pushing back against Harry's cock—wanting but giving at the same time. It was _so_ good.

"Faster, Harry. _Please_." Harry picked up the pace, careful of Draco's position, and thrust in and out until he was panting nothing but unintelligible words and coming so hard, he was sure that he'd need a Healer to recover.

Even though he'd climaxed, he was still inside Draco. Draco leaned back and rested his weight against Harry's body before he removed his hand off the wall and started to stroke himself. Harry held him tight and close. Harry held him as Draco made those whimpering noises again and Harry honestly thought that his softening cock inside Draco was starting to harden again.

Thankfully, Draco orgasmed before they could have another go, and they finished showering. 

Harry wrapped a warm towel—that he'd charmed—around Draco, and one around himself before taking Draco to his bedroom. They lay naked under the covers, though it wasn't long before just laying next to each other wasn't enough, and they started touching. The touching led to kissing, and finally, it led to Harry in-between Draco's legs again, fucking him with his fingers and then sucking him off. 

In that moment, Harry knew. He'd been sure before, but now he knew, knew, _knew_ that he could never have enough of Draco. Sure, they would fight, and they would lash out at each other, but Harry was certain that he could _never_ let go of Draco. 

Ever.

* * *

**_1st October, 2004_ **

* * *

Draco delivered the child, a boy, on Pansy Parkinson’s birthday. Naturally, Harry thought naming the boy Park Malfoy was appropriate. Draco had agreed. Ron made a face when he’d heard the news, but Harry didn’t think anything about the situation would have made Ron smile. Hermione, on the other hand, kept on going about how it was finally _time_ he and Draco had got together.

Harry retired from being a private consultant for the Ministry and he and Parkinson, she was Parkinson now and not just Park, trained the potential candidates for the Undercover Investigation Department of the Ministry.

Harry legally adopted Park a month after he was born, making him, Park Malfoy Potter.

Now whenever Harry looked at Draco, he knew Draco belonged to him and not any other man. The boy belonged to Harry, too. They were his as much as he was theirs. And Harry swore to protect them, forever.

No matter what.

* * *

_THE END_  



End file.
